| Nicholson & Lee, eds. The Oxford Book of English Mystical Verse. 1917. |
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| 117. The Visionary |
| By Emily Brontë (1819–1848) |
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| SILENT is the house: all are laid asleep: | |
| One alone looks out o’er the snow-wreaths deep, | |
| Watching every cloud, dreading every breeze | |
| That whirls the wildering drift, and bends the groaning trees. | |
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| Cheerful is the hearth, soft the matted floor; | 5 |
| Not one shivering gust creeps through pane or door; | |
| The little lamp burns straight, its rays shoot strong and far: | |
| I trim it well, to be the wanderer’s guiding-star. | |
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| Frown, my haughty sire! chide, my angry dame! | |
| Set your slaves to spy; threaten me with shame: | 10 |
| But neither sire nor dame nor prying serf shall know, | |
| What angel nightly tracks that waste of frozen snow. | |
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| What I love shall come like visitant of air, | |
| Safe in secret power from lurking human snare; | |
| What loves me, no word of mine shall e’er betray, | 15 |
| Though for faith unstained my life must forfeit pay. | |
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| Burn, then, little lamp; glimmer straight and clear— | |
| Hush! a rustling wing stirs, methinks, the air: | |
| He for whom I wait, thus ever comes to me; | |
| Strange Power! I trust thy might; trust thou my constancy. | 20 |
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